Justice
by KDlalala
Summary: Post HotU.  A horrific crime is committed in a sleepy little town, drawing the heroes of Waterdeep into a network of lies Valen might not be able to get free of.  Rated M for content and language.
1. Quiet Little Town

Alright, I think I'm beyond the point where I can use whining about work and stuff giving me writer's block.

I've revamped and re-edited the earlier chapters (including several rather embarrassing mistakes...)

Soooooooooo, let's try this again...

* * *

_Rain was pattering down from the sky in short spurts, as if the clouds were trying to decide whether or not to let the storm loose. She could feel droplets of it in her hair, on her torn clothing, spattering on her skin through the holes. Normally she loved walking around outside when it rained but now she hurt too much…inside and out…._

_The girl forced back the memories rushing into her head. She couldn't think. She wouldn't think about it. She could let it out when she got home._

_She clung to that thought. Home. She had to get home._

_She pushed away from the tree she'd been leaning against and stumbled forward, trying to orient herself. There, she knew that crooked tree there by the side of the road, knew it marked her as almost on the outskirts of her father's farm. Hope leapt into her heart, the first positive emotion to fill her since she'd heard footsteps behind her…_

_She tore her thoughts away from that direction and forced herself to stumble on, tears running down her face, every muscle in her body aching with fatigue and exertion. _

_When she finally managed to claw her way to the top of the hill and the roof of her home came into sight, she started to scream for her father._

One week later…

People generally tended to walk in grim silence at this level of the town's main hall. It was no surprise the loud arguing of the priests above drew attentions from the guards and the few prisoners enclosed in the line of cells.

Mywiewen Cystiacilo made an attempt to keep her voice lower as she strode after her companion, the words issuing through clenched teeth. "Holo, you have two seconds to turn yourself around and walk out of this cursed place before I toss you over my shoulder and drag you out."

The gnome cast an amused glance back at her, not slowing down at all. "Really, Wie, talking with your cheeks all puffed up like that and your lips curled hardly presents a fitting image for a Knight of the Merciful Sword."

She would have throttled him except his words had a certain ring of truth that made her school her face into a proper expression. Plus bending to reach that low would have been even more undignified. "Don't call me Wie."

He didn't bother to answer that order anymore, continuing on as if he hadn't heard her. "Nor is it dignified for a Knight of the Merciful Sword to prattle on like a harridan every single time this faithful servant of Ilmater tries to do his sworn duty."

"There is no requirement for you to go into every single blasted prison we come across." The paladin argued.

"There is no better place to find a suffering soul." Holo replied quietly, nodding to the guards as they entered lower level where the holding cells were located. "Facing ones own mortality often leads one to see life and the past in an entirely different light."

"Leading to a guilt induced sense of repentance that doesn't do the people they harmed any good or bring any real sense of justice, does it?" Mywiewen shot back.

Holo sighed, refusing to be drawn further into this latest incarnation of their oldest running argument. He knew it pained Mywiewen to see him place blessings on people she deemed unworthy of the honor. The way they viewed things was simply too different for them to reach some sort of middle ground on the issue. He saw the paladin sigh and resign herself, her tall form going still and tense, ready to spring into action should any unruly prisoner try and harm her charge.

Holo moved down the line of cells, offering the occupants the blessing of Ilmater and the chance to relieve themselves of any inner torment. In the front cells he was met with sullen indifference or outright mockery, but those were the men who weren't facing execution. Mywiewen gritted her teeth and had to remind herself that Holo had set himself to this kind of ridicule when he'd dedicated himself to Ilmater. That didn't change the fact it enraged her to hear such words and abuse laid on the gentle gnome, whom she'd seen gladly take on pain far beyond what his small frame should have had to endure to save people who would never appreciate what he'd done for them. He spent weeks upon weeks tending to the poor, agonized over the sick and dying because he couldn't take their pain from them. It taken her a while to see past their differing views and come to accept the fact he was truly a good soul and worthy not only of respect but admiration, but that only made it more painful to watch him subject himself to this.

It didn't get easier when they made it to the cells further back where the prisoners awaiting execution were held. Here was where Holo found his so called tormented. Almost all of them met the offering for blessing with surprise, and a few with tearful gratitude or pleas for him to help them. Mywiewen listened silently as Holo quietly assured a man who'd spent years in a temple cheating honest worshippers out of money they gave for blessings that there was hope for him in the next world if he was truly repentant for his crimes.

'_Not likely," _the paladin thought contemptuously. She felt no pity for the man and seriously doubted there was any real repentance in his heart, only fear as he faced his death and retribution for his crimes in the life after. Still, Holo didn't make any assurances or promises to speak for the wretches, and she admitted reluctantly that there really was no harm in giving them false hopes. It often made for a quieter execution.

Finally the two came to a cell that was guarded by two heavily armed knights. Actual knights, Holo noted with a bit of surprise, not guardsmen trained within the barony. And when he came closer he was even more surprised to see they'd hired a wizard to help guard the door as well. The three rose and bowed respectfully to cleric and paladin as they approached. Holo stopped a few feet from them, which allowed him to look up at them without putting too much of a crick in his neck. "Greetings, good knights, I am Holo of the Church of the Crying God, and it is my honor to introduce the Lady Mywiewen Cystacilo, Knight of the Merciful Sword. You seem to be quite on edge about this prisoner here…"

"We've good reason to be," the wizard answered in clipped tones. She was a tall, coldly beautiful woman dressed in robes that marked her as a mage of no small accomplishment.

"I've been watching you with the other prisoners, my lord, and while your idea is admirable I'm telling you not to bother with this one," one of the knights said, glancing at the door behind him with cold contempt. "He'll be a pleasure to wipe off this existence; I wish they'd done it already."

"What did he do?" Mywiewen spoke up curiously, noting the hostility of all three, even the wizard.

"Five days ago, little Amarie Tefton, who's the daughter of one of the more prominent farmers, came stumbling out of the woods around suppertime, screaming for help, looking like she'd been trampled by a stampede. One of the healers examined her. She'd been raped and beaten badly when she was out picking fruit for her mother." The knight's teeth were clenched by the time he finished. "She's fourteen years old."

Holo's face went grim and Mywiewen found her hand had strayed to the hilt of her sword, her grey eyes flashing dangerously. "And this is the man responsible?" She spoke in a voice that had gone quiet and deadly.

"We found him tracking through the woods about two days after it happened, heading South, directly away from the scene of the crime. Moira helped bring him back," the other knight said, nodding to the wizard.

Holo's attention sharpened, his initial outrage dampened by a sudden gut instinct not all was right here. "You know for sure…"

Mywiewen interrupted, her voice filled with barely suppressed fury. "Why hasn't he been executed yet?" She snarled, outraged, her hand outright gripping the hilt of her sword now.

"Lord Sven wants a confession and he won't admit to it," the first knight said, his own face mirroring her anger. "He just glares out with those devil eyes and says he didn't do it no matter how hard anyone questions him."

Holo winced, only imagining what sort of methods of 'questioning' was used on the man. "But you do, of course, have proof he was in fact the one who did it?" He pressed, trying not to sound judgmental. Everyone glared at him but the tiny man refused to back down, meeting every glare with calm, steady eyes. Something deep within him had clicked oddly and he was suddenly quite certain that he was meant to be in this place, for whatever reason. "Forgive me, but what evidence do you have beyond the fact he was traveling in the woods relatively near the scene of the crime?"

The gnome's calm, reasonable tone got through to Mywiewen at least and she flushed a bit, ashamed that she'd let her anger rule her enough she'd started to judge Holo of all people. The knight wasn't so easily swayed and seemed to take the words as an insult. "I've seen that evidence and have eyes in my head, my lord."

"Meaning?" Holo looked confused.

The wizard intervened, an odd smile on her face. "I believe the confusion can be cleared up quite easily, gentlemen." She gestured to the small barred door at the bottom of the cell used to slide food into, the only opening in the door. "Take a look at the prisoner, sir, and you will see why there is no doubt this particular prisoner was responsible."

Holo blinked and stepped forward, kneeling in front of the little door.

"We will protect you, lord Holo, but be careful; he's broken through the chains in a fit of temper more than once."

Both Holo and Mywiewen looked at him, startled, and he smiled grimly in response. Holo knelt down and opened the little door, wincing at the smell of the unwashed, dank cell. He caught a whiff of open wounds and the start of infection as he peered through the darkness, his small frame allowing him to bend down and look through it with relative ease. He frowned and squinted when he finally caught a glimpse of a figure covered in chains, drawn back against the wall. A gasp came from him as the figure lifted his head and looked at him, the thin shaft of moonlight from the tiny window at the top of the cell highlighting his features….

Mywiewen came up behind him, looking at the knight curiously. "What is it about this prisoner that's so special?"

The knight leaned forward, his voice low, holding it in for the drama of the moment.

…the silver light gleaming off the black horns that curved from his head…

"He's a demon."

Mywiewen's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to speak but Holo's voice, shocked and trembling, drew everyone's attention down to him, noting his face had gone white with horror and disbelief. "_Valen?_"


	2. Outside Interference

By the time he allowed himself to rest the next night, Holo honestly wasn't sure who he was more frustrated with: the fools running the prison or Valen himself.

The stubborn tiefling refused to tell him how he could contact Angeline or even where she was. He seemed to think the half drow would be imprisoned the second she stepped into the village. Holo tried again and again to make him see how unreasonable that was but Valen refused to listen. The gnome cleric had finally let him be after a while, stalking away from the cells muttering to himself about stubborn demons.

The gnome paused at the end of the hall, chewing on one of his nails. Mywiewen trailed behind him silently….she'd been awful silent throughout this whole thing….as he left the prison once again, trying to decide what to do.

Mywiewen was in a state of shock to be honest. She'd spent most of her life training as a paladin within the stronghold of her order, which meant seeing people in authority shouted at and scolded like children was something she had not come across before. Holo had torn into anyone who had been sent to find out what was holding up the execution, threatening to bring in knights and paladins and clerics from everywhere, which had cowed several of the officials enough they'd backed off. Then Holo had gone to Lord Sven himself and hit the first major roadblock. The implacable Lord was not swayed by Holo's threats, accusing the gnome of putting his ideals in front of justice for a young girl, which had made Mywiewen speak up in Holo's defense for the first time, not that he needed it. If Lord Sven thought he was going to beat down the little gnome with pretty words, as he was obviously used to doing, he was sadly mistaken. Holo insisted over and over that he knew the tiefling and knew for a fact he was incapable of doing such a thing, which had even less of an effect on the Lord than his threats.

That was the one thing she and the Lord were in agreement with. She knew Holo tried to see the best in people but she was hard pressed to believe that someone of such evil decent didn't have…urges…that he couldn't control. It was in his nature after all.

Despite that, she didn't like Lord Sven. There was a smug arrogance to the man that Mywiewen didn't appreciate at all, especially directed at the cleric who was under her protection. So it had been a pleasure to see that smug, confident smile vanish when Holo had finally come forward with a threat that she knew he could actually follow through with: he threatened to call in the Harpers.

It was a good idea; she wasn't sure why he hadn't brought them up before. She didn't entirely approve of Holo's affiliation with the questionable group but she did know they had influence...unofficially…in this area. Holo had pointedly mentioned that the prisoner had a connection to the Harper's as well, mainly that his mother in law was one, and mentioning to them the fact he'd had no trial and no real investigation into whether he was guilty or not before they'd set up an execution would look awfully dodgy. If mentioned with the right words it might even seem like a cover up…perhaps something that might warrant deeper inspection from a group of outsiders…

Oh, Lord Sven hadn't liked that, Mywiewen reflected as she and Holo returned to the inn they'd set up in. He hadn't liked it enough to finally placate Holo by promising there would be an inquiry with one of their magistrates, but Mywiewen had noticed that smug confidence creeping back in even while he said it. She couldn't blame him. Any evidence in Valen's defense besides his own claims of innocence and refusal to confess would be outweighed by prejudice and rage at the crime, Holo was only delaying the inevitable and putting himself in harm's way in the process. She could already see angry glares and muttering aimed in his direction.

Not that that had ever stopped him before, she thought with a sigh.

For his part, Holo seemed satisfied with his temporary victory, at least he had until he and Valen had bumped heads on the issue of how to contact Valen's wife. Now Holo was muttering to himself and pacing about the room that was adjoined with hers, shuffling through some of this things until he'd found a small mirror and some kind of fancy looking quill. She watched with a mixture of curiosity and unease. "Holo…you aren't _really_ going to call the Harpers in on this, are you?"

"Not unless I have to," he replied absently, writing busily on the mirror with the fancy quill. It wasn't exactly a lie, he told himself, hoping to put aside Wie's worries for the moment. He glanced up to smile at her a bit distractedly. "Not to worry, my dear."

_I'm not calling in Evelain because she's a Harper; I'm calling her in because her daughter is in love with the man they want to kill… _

_

* * *

_

Evelain stood quietly in the center of the balcony overlooking Haven's gardens. Her eyes were open but not focused on anything in particular. She saw nothing and was yet aware of anything, all of her considerable powers of concentration lifting her from a normal state to one of almost total focus, part of everything and yet part of nothing.

The monk had shut herself away for a long meditation session, trying to put a finger on what had been bothering her lately and now that she'd cleared her mind she could let her thoughts drift without distraction. There was nothing with the Harpers that was out of the ordinary, no assignments that particularly troubled her. There was no threat to the library here at the moment. Angeline then? Was there something wrong with her daughter…?

The scent of smoke was all the warning Evelain had before an explosion from below rocked the entire frame of the library and brought her back into awareness with a jarring sensation that was almost physical. Only her reflexes and keen sense of balance saved her from being thrown to the floor. She stepped to the railing and looked to the left, alarmed by the amount of smoke pouring out of the windows from the smaller building off the gardens, set a prudent distance away from the rest of the main library.

And Raal had been _surprised_, she thought, when she'd insisted that lab not be part of the main building.

The monk turned away from the balcony and strode out of the room, trying to tamp down on her annoyance, her lips pressed in a tight line. It was a male thing, she decided as she stalked down the stairs. Only a _man_ would think that building a lab where any wizard or spell slinger could just waltz right in and practice absolutely _any_ spell they wished was a good idea.

The idiot man in this case was, in fact, on his way out to check the explosion himself but paused when he heard her coming. Raal turned, leaning on his staff, and watched his wife stride towards him. The set expression on her face and the way her eyes flashed made him fire off words in his defense before she'd even come near; "The spells we put around it held it all in…"

"I was meditating," she said shortly, striding past him and shoving through the door into the gardens.

Raal winced and walked in the wake of her anger, leaning on his staff to keep weight off his crippled leg. Her meditation times were times when Evelain was not to be disturbed upon pain of death. While he was glad he wasn't about to take the brunt of his wife's anger he felt rather sorry for whoever had fired off that spell.

But not sorry enough to stand in between them.

The drow smiled wryly as he followed Evelain out to what had formerly been the house assigned to the acolytes of the monastery as dorms and was now a building more heavily protected than any building within miles where wizards visiting the library could put the knowledge they'd gleaned to good use. It made for some wondrous moments and helped uphold the library's reputation for being a place people could escape to, but it also meant explosions at odd hours and some rather interesting mistakes.

A small crowd had gathered around the smaller building but parted hastily when Evelain stalked through them, staying where they were to let Raal come through as well. Evelain was cursing as she shoved the door open, which made Raal flinch and hurry forward, afraid some wayward bolt of magic might hit her.

While nothing around the building had been hurt, the inside of it was chaos. Several of the wizards, Raal recognized them as the group of young students that had arrived a few days before, were milling about and chattering excitedly. Apparently the explosion hadn't been a mistake after all, because the three young men were patting themselves on the backs and congratulating each other up until the point they noticed the angry monk bearing down on them. And by then it was too late. Raal stopped in the doorway and leaned against the doorframe, taking the time to look around the lab critically as his wife laid into the three young men. Nothing appeared damaged. The boys' robes were a bit singed but that was only to be expected. They'd done a good job of making sure they laid out protection spells, he noted with approval.

When he turned to reassure the people outside that no one was dead and send them back to their tasks one of the students gathered up the courage to speak out against Evelain's onslaught, protesting the scolding. "It is daylight and we knew what we were doing!" He declared.

Foolish boy, drawing her attention like that. He should have stayed quiet and let her rant at all three of them together. Raal shook his head in amused despair and stepped out of the building, strolling towards the pond that took up part of the gardens. He was interested in knowing what they'd intended to do but now was not the time to ask, better to just stay out of the way and let Evelain put the fear of the gods into them. The gods knew she could use the stress reliever. She'd been tense and agitated lately and that was very out of character for Evelain. Raal frowned as he gazed into the water. She couldn't tell him what was wrong, not because she didn't want to but because he didn't think she knew. And that lack of control over her own thoughts and emotions, he knew, was enough to drive his wife to distraction. She liked things to be in neat, orderly control and was very good at getting things to be so, so when she failed to do it, it was like a thorn in her side.

Raal stirred as he heard her footsteps behind him, not turning around. She wasn't muttering under her breath anymore, which was always a good sign. Angeline did the exact same thing when she was angry, the only exception being that when she was muttering she was usually stalking back and forth and throwing things at the same time. He hid a smile and kept his eyes on the water as Evelain stopped beside him. "Did you get any of them to cry this time, my love?"

Evelain felt her lips twitch before she could stop them. "No."

Raal clicked his tongue in mock regret. "Ah, well. Maybe next time."

She felt the last of her anger seep out of her in the face of Raal's humor. As usual, damn him. But once it did the worry started to creep back into her mind and heart. She stood silently at her husband's side for a long time, gazing out over the low wall that surrounded the garden and out to the hills and miles of forest beyond. Raal kept silent, letting her think before she broached the subject of what was troubling her.

"I think something is wrong with Angeline," she said finally.

Now that got Raal's attention. The drow's head came up and he looked sharply at her. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know." Frustrated, Evelain turned and started to pace. Raal stepped forward and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, turning her to face him, his dark eyes looking into hers. Evelain calmed slightly, Raal's steady patience helping her focus. "I don't know, but…."

"Evelain!" Both of them turned, startled. Evelain squinted at the man running towards them and stepped away from Raal to meet him, a faint look of impatience on her face. Raal was confused at first until he saw the silver harp pin the man wore. He scowled slightly and turned back toward the water. He knew her work with the Harpers was important but in this case with their daughter possibly in danger he hoped her superiors would understand if she declined any assignment they wanted her to gallop off to do this time.

His hand tightened on his staff as he looked down into the water. What could Angeline be getting herself into now? Not that it was a stretch; she seemed to have a talent for getting herself into situations she had no business coming out of alive.

It was Evelain's fault. That was his considered opinion. They should have known Angeline was headed for a life of trouble when she hadn't even gotten out of Drogan's school without getting into trouble and it was her mother's idea to send her off in the first place. And it had only gotten worse from there. She could have stayed and helped do the myriad of things that were needed to run the huge library he and Evelain and a handful of others had worked hard to create. It was a place where anyone could seek out without worry of prejudice and hatred, a place where his daughter had grown up and could have stayed without ever having to face the same troubles he had because of her half drow heritage. Instead she'd run off into the wilds and learned how to be a druid (and he had no clue where _that_ particular line of talent of hers had come from, certainly not from him and he couldn't imagine it had come from Evelain's side of the family), getting herself into adventure after adventure. Waltzing into Undermountain with that idiotic little kobold bard, getting involved in a war in the Underdark and then heading into the damned _Hells_ of all places.

And then she'd had to go and fall in love with the tiefling, Raal thought sourly, ensuring she wasn't going to be able to go anywhere without being glared at or spat on or…

Arms came around him from behind him, startling him out of his ranting thoughts. Evelain's lips brushed his ear lightly. "What would you have done, Raal, broken both her legs to ensure she couldn't leave here?" Able to pick up on his thoughts as usual, his ability to keep his thoughts and feelings from his face and eyes, an ability every drow male knew in the Underdark, seemed to have faded over the years. He pressed his lips into a thin line and refused to answer. Evelain tightened her hold on him. "We both knew she needed a wide path open before her, my love. You knew as well as I did that keeping her here like a falcon with its wings clipped would have kept her safe but miserable the rest of her days."

He knew. Raal closed his eyes and his breath came out in a long sigh. And despite his doubts about Valen, he also happened to know what it was like to overcome odds for love. He glanced slightly over his shoulder. "Are the Harpers calling you out on assignment again?"

Now that he saw her eyes, he could see how serious and worried she looked, and his heart sank. She released him and stepped back, letting her fear show clearly now. "No, Raal, it was Holo sending me a message."

It took Raal a moment to place the name, and then it clicked with a face. The gnome cleric who Angeline and Evelain were both fond of. "What did he want?"

Evelain's brief hesitation had him looking at her sharply. She met his gaze and shook her head slowly. "Raal, we have a very serious problem. We have to find Angeline."


	3. Two More Players on the Board

_His instincts were honed sharper than any blade, trained into him from necessity. A tiefling in the Blood War who allowed himself to be consumed by sleep rarely woke up, so when he felt the presence above him his eyes snapped open and his arm was moving within seconds._

_It took him several minutes to recognize the person looking down at him. Angeline grinned at him, seemingly unworried by the fact he had his hand wrapped around her throat. "Weren't you the one that was getting on my case about oversleeping?" _

_Valen let her go, his eyes going wide. If he hadn't recognized her... "I…you…I could have killed you!" He finally managed._

"_You do seem a tad high strung." The half drow rubbed at her throat a bit and shook her head at him. "You're not still fretting over the fight with the dracolich?"_

"_Angeline…" Valen willed his heart to stop pounding…trying to keep the images of her hanging from his grasp with her neck broken from his mind. _

"_Well, we won the fight didn't we?"_

"_Angeline!" Exasperation finally pushed the fear back. He sat up fully and glared at her, grabbing her hands. "I almost snapped your neck!"_

_She wrinkled her nose at him. "There's your dramatic streak again."_

_Ah, but how could he have forgotten he was dealing with a madwoman? He let go of her hands and turned away, angry with her for scaring him._

_But of course she wouldn't let it go. Angeline poked him in the shoulder. "Now you're upset, why?"_

"_Because I almost killed you!" He burst out. He'd already told her about his time in the Abyss, she'd seen him in battle time and time again and she still didn't understand._

"_Don't be ridiculous, that would be an extremely foolish and careless thing to do and you're neither." _

_Valen looked at her. She was serious, those puzzled golden brown eyes meeting his. It came to him in a flash so fast and complete it left him stunned. "You're not afraid me…"_

_Her jaw dropped and she stared at him, her turn to be shocked. "Of course not!"_

_He couldn't quite make himself believe it. "I've told you about the demon taint in me…"_

"_You're not tainted!"_

"…_I told you about my service in the Blood Wars…"_

"_That wasn't your fault!"_

"…_you've seen me in battle and you still aren't afraid of me." His voice had gone soft with wonder._

"_Valen…" Angeline's voice was equally soft, her brow furrowed with honest confusion, "…why would I be?"_

Hazy scenes from the past…

_Those same eyes above him again, almost glowing in the darkness._

Chains clanked as he stirred. Dry, cracked lips parted as his breath rushed out in a sigh.

_She was trembling, her breathing harsh and fast. He was still deep inside her and every movement she made as she collapsed on top of him sent tiny shudders of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around her, as shaky as she was, and turned his head to kiss softly along the line of her jaw. Angeline stirred and he had to grab hold of her hips to keep her still, gasping. The wicked grin she shot him made him keep his hold and ease out of her slowly, rolling so both of them were laying on their sides before he pulled her close again, needing the feel of her skin against his._

Awareness kept trying to pull him back up and he resisted it subconsciously, trying to avoid that place of pain and the smell of sickness in the air, this place inside him was much better.

"_Keep that damned mutt out of my way." He growled at her as they paused to rest, the eternal black of the Underdark closed around them. He hated it and her damned wolf's occasional suspicious glares in his direction weren't helping ease the tension. _

"_Now that's going to encourage the Seer's forces, their greatest fighter is threatened by a three legged wolf," she shot back dryly._

"I'm not _threatened_, she's just _annoying_." He didn't recognize the voice as his own, even as it jerked him awake. Valen blinked groggily as the cell came into focus and closed his eyes, wishing he could take the sight away and retreat into the past again. His consciousness betrayed him, dragging fully into the waking world and leaving him with pain once again. He stifled a groan, his teeth gritted; feeling the sick ache of his wounds that told him at least one of them was infected. No wonder he was floating around in a fever dream. He'd heard Holo tell him he was going to get healers in here for him but he'd yet to see it, they probably knew the gnome's threats only went so far. Angeline would have reamed the prison's healers up and down for letting his wounds get so bad.

He realized the ridiculousness of that statement a minute later, and the very fact he'd thought it made him worry he'd become too sick to think. If Angeline ever set foot in this prison and saw him in this state she'd fly into a rage wild enough to rival him in the midst of battle lust. It was one of the many reasons he didn't want her here, she'd end up in the cell right next to him and he didn't doubt the gnome or the paladin with him would be unable to stop her. She wouldn't be able to stop herself.

Even as he thought it, the image of her in his mind made longing sweep through him. If he was going to die in this place at the hands of these ignorant people he wished he could see her again just once. Feel the cool, wild power of her healing magic. Wanted to feel her in his arms, bury his face in her hair, look into her eyes and be reminded that for all the prejudice he faced in this world, even if the whole world turned against him there was one person who loved him with all her heart. Who saw him for who he was and what he tried to be, not for what he was born as.

Valen turned his head and looked deliriously through the tiny window above, his throat working, trying to dredge up moisture from his throat. "Angeline…"

* * *

"Don't think my wound will keep me from fighting, foul drow," the man said hoarsely, struggling against her hold.

"You open this wound up again and I'll knock you unconscious, that'll be the end of it," the dark figure crouched over him replied.

"I'll battle you until the last breath leaves my body…fight to run my blade though your monstrous form…"

"Are you always this dramatic or is it just the delirium?"

"Be sure your blood will stain the ground long before mine will!"

"Your blood already _is_ staining the ground, you silly boy." Angeline scowled as he flailed for the sword lying on the ground a few feet from him and whacked him the forehead with the heel of her hand, knocking his head back. "Behave yourself."

"Which one of us is the foul drow?" K'rith asked neither one of them in particular. He peered over Angeline's shoulder curiously, making the man she was working on flinch back, hand twitching toward the sword again. A practical man, K'rith kicked it even further out of reach.

"Well you're the only full drow here," his goddaughter replied thoughtfully.

"How rude. I'm not foul. I'm far more pleasant than half the humans I know!"

"So you say over and over and over again," Angeline snickered and finally managed to clean the grit and dirt out of the man's wound enough she was comfortable with healing it. He kept trying to pull his arm away and Angeline scowled as he finally managed it, her blood slicked fingers unable to hold on when he jerked his arm hard to the side and tried to hit her. She caught his fist and bopped him on the head again, wrapping her hands around the wound as she called a healing spell.

K'rith watched the entire spectacle with bemusement. "Tell me again why we've spent the past half hour trying to heal a wound you put in him in the first place?"

"I don't want your foul magic upon me!" The man started struggling again as Angeline's magic swept through the air.

"He likes the world 'foul'." K'rith was being very helpful.

"Oh, shut up, the both of you," Angeline snapped. She dropped the man's now healed arm and rose to her feet, huffing.

K'rith watched him silently. The man was less than grateful, scowling at Angeline as she turned away to gather her things and struggling to get to his feet. When his eyes flicked toward his sword, K'rith picked it up and threw it into the woods. The man snarled and K'rith pointed behind him toward the road. "You want to be heading that way if you want to keep your…"

Angeline whipped around as he doubled over, yelping. "K'rith?"

The man looked between them nervously and apparently decided to use the opportunity to get away.

K'rith didn't notice. He was pressing his fingers to his temple, swearing fluently in the drow language as he groped at the crystal studded medallion at his throat. Angeline hurried to his side and took his arm just as his words became coherent. "Lolth's _tits_! _What,_ Raal?"

She stopped short and stared at him. For no reason she could define she felt an inkling of dread go through her.

K'rith was standing still now, eyes narrowed as he spoke to her father telepathically. He shot her a glance and looked quickly away. The dread blossomed into outright fear. Her father could have easily sent a spell her way…unless he didn't want to be the one to tell her something. It was either something wrong with her mother or Valen…

It couldn't be her mother. K'rith would have been throwing a fit if something was wrong with her mother.

It was Valen. It had to be.

Her expression must have reflected the panic rising inside her because K'rith looked at her again and hurriedly let go of the medallion, coming toward her. "Angeline…"

Her pale brown eyes met his dark ones silently, wide and frightened. "What's happened to Valen?"


	4. For the Good of the Town

This should have been over days ago.

Lord Sven sat at his desk in his office, his fingers steepled in front of him, glaring silently at the two other men in the room. One was seated in a chair in front of the desk, looking back at him calmly. The other, a younger man, stood in front of the window looking out over the grounds below. He was trying to retain the dignity and calm of the other man but he couldn't quite pull it off, fidgeting and looking around nervously.

Sven pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, rubbing the spot between his eyes to try and restrain the headache growing there, trying to figure out how all this had gone so wrong. This should have been _over_. The tiefling showing up in the woods had seemed a sign from the gods. In a way, it was his duty. Who knows what kind of things the demon had done in his life? Putting him to death would have been a favor to the world and it would have made this little problem go away.

And then, as if the gods were mocking him, the gnome had shown up with his ridiculous claims about the demon being some kind of _hero_. That alone wouldn't have bothered him but the Harper symbol he carried did. He did not want Harpers nosing around here into affairs that were none of their concern. None at all.

The man at the window, Bran, finally couldn't take the silence anymore. "You're the mayor, just order them to kill the thing. What, did politics take your balls too?"

The whining tone to his voice sparked Sven's temper and he raised his head to glare at him. "Shut up. We wouldn't even be in this mess if not for you."

"You can't talk to me like…"

"Why her?" Sven burst out, bringing a fist down on his desk in a fit of temper. "Why a girl from a good family?"

"They're farmers," Bran sneered.

"They have more money and influence in town than you."

Bran opened his mouth in outrage and closed it again, looking at his father, who was still sitting silently in the chair.

Sven sat back in his chair again. "If you couldn't keep to the whorehouses or one of your mistresses, why couldn't you have at least picked some commoner no one would care about?"

"She wanted it. It's not my fault. Twitching at me every time I looked her way. When it was done she got cold feet and tried to claim she didn't want it so her daddy wouldn't get all mad at her," Bran pouted.

"Girls her age are often so confused about their emotions," Enerich, his father, spoke for the first time, his voice low and smooth.

Sven said nothing. He'd heard them say variations of that same thing over the past days, over and over. He didn't believe it anymore now than he had the first time Bran had whined it. He looked at Enerich. "The reason I can't 'just order the execution' is because that little prick wasn't bluffing about being connected to the Harpers. And the chances are they'll listen to him rather than common sense. They also might go poking around, and I don't think you want that."

"Neither do you," Enerich countered.

"Just have the little bastard thrown out and then kill the thing," Bran said dismissively. "By the time he brings the Harpers around, we'll have hidden anything bad and they won't be able to do anything."

"Brilliant, Bran, why don't you do the honors, I'm sure the paladin will just sit back and let you. Then we'll have the Harpers _and_ her order coming down on us."

"Calm down, Sven," Enerich spoke with the same calm, matter of fact tone that made him such a skilled merchant. "I think we agree the solution to this little...annoyance...is relatively simple."

Annoyance. Sven wasn't made of stone. He knew the Teftons, sympathized with what they must be going through. Hearing Enerich refer to what his son had done to the girl as an annoyance made him feel sick. If only for a moment. Because then reality set in and he would steel himself to do what had to be done. Enerich and the circle of merchants were critical to keeping trade going through their little part of the world, turning a tiny, worthless farming community into an important town. A _real_ town. A scandal like this could ruin so much.

So he would get Bran out of this. For the good of the town. Sven started to pace. "I've already blocked healers from going in. He's dying, it's only a matter of time."

"Not fast enough. We need this taken care of _now_, Sven. The sooner he's dead, the faster people will move on. I can hire good men if you're not able to take action." Enerich smiled at him.

Sven smiled back. He'd been rather hoping the old bastard would offer. "I think that would be a grand idea."

Enerich's smile faltered.

"It works out for the best, really. You'll have to make sure they're discreet, of course." And if they weren't he'd already taken steps to ensure it wouldn't be traced back to him.

The merchant stared at him for a long moment. Sven locked eyes with him. They were in this together but Enerich didn't like being outmaneuvered. He finally spoke, his voice quiet. "Of course."

Satisfied, Sven leaned back. "Then if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have some things to take care of. I think it may be best if we don't meet again until after it's done."

* * *

Valen didn't know why he resisted the darkness trying to close in on his vision. It was an end to this pain, to the sickness eating away at him. He'd had neither food nor water in days and it was draining what little strength was left in his already weak form. He was certain every wound was infected and a couple of his bones broken.

He hadn't wanted to die this way. The outrage of it kept him wanting to survive. Not like this. Not after years out on the road, in battle, facing down enemies so dangerous only a fool or a madman would take them on. Or a man in love.

To die here, now, like this seemed an insult after all he'd faced. The Blood Wars, the Valsharess, Mephistopheles, passing through the hells, battling through the Underdark, traveling through the wilderness of this world, the ever shifting landscape of Sigil and traveling through the planes to save Angeline. That was when he'd gotten her back, wasn't it?

_Valen._

A year without her, a year when they'd walked away from each other until fate had drawn them back together. Gods, he'd never wanted to leave her side again after that...he shouldn't have, he should have traveled with her this time...

_Valen._

He didn't open his eyes. He suffered delusions almost constantly now.

There was a low moaning sound that he thought was his own at first. Then warm fingers touched his cheek. "_Valen. _Oh, Goddess..."

He cracked his eyes open. There was a dark figure crouched in front of him, a dark shape barely outlined by moonlight, gold eyes flashing. He had a second to realize she wasn't a delusion and suddenly the cool, sweet flow of healing magic was sweeping through him. Angeline had her arms around him, her lips against his ear, moving as she chanted softly. There was wetness against his cheek and he realized she was crying.

That finally made it sink in. Angeline. Angeline was here. Now. With him.

Valen stirred and she pressed a hand against his shoulder, shaking her head. "Don't move, let me finish..."

He obeyed. Saying no to her was a feat he was rarely able to manage even at the best of times. He held still, feeling that sick, rotting feeling within him fade, washed away like filth in a stream. The dazed confusion in his mind faded. The chains holding his wrists clanked as he tried to put his arms around her automatically. Angeline finally leaned back, looking tired, and brushed his hair out of his eyes. She reached around and held a waterskin up to his lips. He choked when he took a mouthful of it too fast and she murmured a warning, gently tilting it so water trickled down, sliding over his cracked tongue and down his throat, a blessed relief. When the skin was empty, he was finally able to speak, his voice hoarse. "Angeline..."

"Valen..." Her arms were around him again, her lips tracing over his face, covering him with soft kisses. "Goddess, look at what they've done to you..."

He turned his head and pressed his face against the side of her neck, breathing in the scent of her. She smelled of night air and wild magic...she must have shapeshifted into something to get in. He didn't know how she could stand to touch him, he was covered in filth, dried blood and pus crusted around the now healed wounds. She didn't seem to care and he wasn't about to make her. "Angeline..." Their lips finally met and he pulled at the chains again, kissing her with the same desperation he'd drank the water earlier.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Valen."

"Angeline, what are you doing here? You shouldn't have come." Fear for her tore through him and he pulled his head back to look at her. "There's too many of them, we can't fight our way out of here."

"Then I'll find another way," she said stubbornly. She'd dug out her lockpicks- a gift from her grandfather as well as the lessons how to use them, much to the chagrin of many an enemy -and was going to work on the cuffs holding his hands to the wall.

"If they find you here..."

"Then K'rith will find a way to help us, I didn't come alone." She kissed him, unlocking one of the cuffs. He brought an arm around her, drawing her close, nuzzling her throat despite himself as she went to work on the other cuff. "Stop that, you're distracting me..."

As soon as the other cuff was undone he wrapped his other arm around her. He couldn't hold her as tightly as he wanted, his arms heavy and numb from disuse. She was kissing him again, her arms around his neck and he couldn't think of anything but her. "I thought I would die without seeing you again."

"Don't..." The tremble in her voice told him clearly how close he'd come to doing just that.

"You've risked enough just getting in here. You need to leave."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"They'll hunt me to the end of the world for what they think I've done."

Angeline looked at him. "Why? What happened, Valen? What are they accusing you of?"

He met her gaze. "Raping a child."

She stared at him blankly for a long moment, unable to process that. "They...what?"

He stroked her cheek. "I passed by through the woods around the same time a little girl was raped, at one of the farms, I think. They tracked me down. They see the demon in me, it was enough for them to assume I did it."

The shock faded, her eyes almost starting to glow as anger built up. "That's...insane. I'll _kill_ them."

He knew she'd try. Harming the people she loved was enough to drive Angeline into a rage that bordered on psychotic and she was edging toward that state of mind now. She'd tear through the prison, all fury and power, and probably kill most of them along the way but she'd be an open target for anyone with skill to take advantage of it. "No, Angeline," he made his voice as sharp and stern as he could. When that had little effect, he tangled his fingers into the rough silk of her hair and gently turned her head toward him so her eyes met his. "No. It will accomplish nothing and you know it."

She made an obvious effort to control her temper. He'd always thought it was a sign that they were made for each other that the two of them had deadly tempers that could flare in an instant and the only thing that helped calm them was each other.

"You're right...I just..."

They both froze as a soft rattle came from the door. Angeline rolled off him as it swung open and several figures- Valen counted at least three -came in.


	5. Uproar in the Corridor

She'd known something was wrong when they'd entered the prison. Everything was quiet and none of the guards were around. Not one.

Mywiewen heard the commotion a split second before Holo did but didn't grab him fast enough to prevent him from running down the corridor. He barely managed to dodge as a man suddenly flew out of the open door to Valen's cell, skidding across the floor almost to the gnome's feet. The man gazed at Holo dazedly, blood running from his mouth, his nose purple, bloody, and almost smashed flat against his face.

He wasn't a guard; he was dressed completely in black, like someone who was moving through the shadows so as not to be seen. Mywiewen registered it all coolly, stepping in front of Holo.

A second man ran through the doorway, looking terrified, the front of his tunic in ribbons and blood oozing from slashes that looked like claw marks. He paused when he saw Holo, momentarily confused, and glanced back right as a black shape leaped toward him, taking him to the ground.

Mywiewen could only stare for a moment, wondering how in the Nine Hells a panther had gotten into the jail. Then Holo stepped forward, his eyes wide. "Angeline!"

The panther started and lifted its head, fixing golden eyes on the gnome. Mywiewen reached for her sword, but the animal backed off the man it had pinned down. Its form rippled strangely and the paladin gaped as it shifted into a dark skinned woman.

Valen appeared in the doorway, looking much healthier than he had before, free of his chains, and threw yet a third man into the corridor. The tiefling glared down the hall at them, eyes blazing. He and Mywiewen almost mirrored each other in a strange dance as they both moved, the paladin stepping forward and putting herself in front of Holo and Valen stepping in front of Angeline.

For a moment, they stood in a frozen tableau, staring across the three men sprawled between them. Holo flapped his hands, sounding exasperated. "You're bound and determined to make things harder, aren't you, young lady?" He scolded Angeline, peering around Mywiewen.

"He was dying," Angeline stepped to the side, still slightly behind her lover. "I won't let them have him!"

Holo stared at Valen, taking in the tiefling's haggard appearance and the visible signs of wounds that had gone bad. His gaze hardened, his lips thinning into a grim line. "The healers I sent didn't come, did they?"

Valen didn't answer, his eyes never leaving Mywiewen. Angeline answered for him. "None of his wounds had been healed and then these three showed up to finish the job." By the time she'd finished speaking, her voice was a snarl.

"Sven was hoping you'd die," Holo murmured angrily. He clenched his fists for a moment, angry with himself as much as Sven, wishing he could take Valen's pain on himself. He shook his head, such thoughts were useless to now. "All right, Angeline, leave now. We have to..."

"No." Mywiewen turned toward Holo, her steady gray eyes locking with his, an expression he knew all too well on her face. "No," she said again, shaking her head. "This woman broke the law and freed a prisoner, Holo, she has to be turned over for judgement."

"To who, Wie? No one around here can be trusted to serve justice without an ulterior motive. Look around you!"

"I can't just allow her to walk free," Mywiewen insisted.

The druid actually bared her teeth and hissed at her, the sound disturbingly animalistic, as if she'd forgotten she'd shifted out of a cat form. Angeline disliked paladins almost as much as he did. Valen turned his head toward her, warning her with his eyes and expression to run. She met his gaze with her own unyielding one and shook her head stubbornly. She wasn't leaving him here like this. Valen felt that odd mix of exasperation and love swirl through him, angry she was putting herself at risk and yet overwhelmed by the fact she was willing to do so for his sake.

But of course, maybe it was only to be expected. He'd do the same for her.

Holo was still arguing his point. "She saw him suffering unjustly and healed him for it."

"You don't know it was unjust. You may want to believe it but you don't _know_, Holo." Mywiewen didn't raise her voice but Holo blinked in shock as if she'd shouted it. Her eyes flicked to Valen again, her expression saying even more. Holo had assumed with the facts they'd seen that Mywiewen agreed with him on Valen's innocence and that had been another folly on his part.

"I will kill you if you try and take her, paladin," Valen spoke for the first time, his voice very calm. It wasn't a threat; it was a promise.

Before she could reply Holo cried out in surprise as he was dragged forward. At the same time, the paladin felt a sharp, agonizing pain in her ankle as the thug that had been thrown at their feet plunged a knife in between the plates of her armor.

She dimly heard Angeline call Holo's name and the thug babbling something about taking him out and he'd kill him if anyone tried to stop them. His voice was drowned out by the sing of metal as she pulled her blade. The thug's demands dissolved into a shriek as her sword cleaved his hand from the rest of his arm. Blood gushed out of the stump and he fell back, screaming. Holo hit her legs and she threw him behind her, her gaze sweeping the hall.

Valen had keener hearing than the rest of them, so he was the first one to hear the shouts coming from further down the corridor. Guards either returning or alerted by the noise. He ignored the two remaining assassins who were also struggling to their feet and turned to Angeline, clamping his hands on her shoulders. "Go now, before the rest of them get here."

"I won't..."

Valen gave her a soft shake. "If you're in a cell here you can't help anyone, Angeline."

She wavered, anguished, turning her head as she started to hear the shouting too. She leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. "I'll get you out of here, Valen, I swear it."

"I know."

Angeline stepped back, her form twisting and shrinking until a large rat stood where she'd been. That explained how she'd gotten in. It scurried into the cell to wriggle through the window.

Valen turned to find the paladin was too distracted to even notice she'd gone. The man with one hand was attacking Holo, mad with pain, and the cleric was struggling to hold him off and cast a spell at the same time. Mywiewen couldn't turn to help him because the other two were attacking her at once. He saw he hadn't managed to get all their weapons, one of them had a small axe and was holding off the paladin's sword as the other attacked her from behind.

And instant to make a decision. If he ran past them now, it was possible he could get out. He was weaker than normal and he didn't have his weapons or armor but if he was careful...

Even as the thought formed, he already knew he couldn't do it. The instinct that had kept him alive during the Blood Wars didn't outweigh the fact Holo had helped him, didn't outweigh the values the Seer had instilled in him through her own selfless grace, didn't outweigh the fact that through her, and through Angeline, he could look in the mirror now and believe...really believe...that he was a good man.

It meant he couldn't abandon these two. Not even the paladin.

Valen strode forward and grabbed the man with the axe, tossing him almost casually- yet again- down the hallway. He crashed into the man attacking Holo, flattening him to the ground. Mywiewen threw the other man off her, bringing a mailed fist around and slamming it into his jaw. The man's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.

Without having to fight off an attacker, Holo was able to focus on spellcasting, switching to some kind of binding spell. Valen shook his head as he did something to stop the blood still coming from the stump of the first attacker's hand.

Mywiewen planted a boot on the back of the man she'd punched out and swept her gaze down the hall again. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Angeline was gone and when Valen moved, she automatically brought her sword up. Valen looked at her calmly. The paladin wavered as she realized he could have run and didn't, that he'd stayed to help them when he could have escaped, the confusion showing clear in her gray eyes. Valen was struck for the first time by how young she actually was.

There was a shout from down the hall and even as they turned, a bolt of magic sped past Holo and slammed into the tiefling, throwing him backwards. The wizard and the two knights that had been guarding him earlier came running down the hall, followed by several of the prison guards.

The wizard's eyes flashed as she paused, calling up another spell. Before she could cast it, Holo was on his feet, calling at them. Mywiewen had a split second to decide and had to follow what her sense of honor told her to do. She stepped in front of Holo...and Valen...with her sword drawn in a defensive gesture. "Stop."

The wizard paused long enough for her spell to fizzle out, and the knights stared, astonished, taking in the men lying around them. One of them recovered enough to draw himself up and point at the tiefling. Like Mywiewen, he had a duty. "Chain him and get him back into the cell, then we'll..."

He was pointing at Valen's back. The tiefling had already pushed himself to his feet, holding onto his shoulder. He couldn't fight his way through them in his condition and he didn't want them focusing on Angeline, but he'd be damned nine ways if they were going to chain him and drag him ten paces down the hall. He left the entire lot of them gaping at him as he returned to the cell with as much dignity as he could muster and shut the door behind him with a resonating click.


	6. Balanced Forces

By the time they got everything sorted out, a crowd had gathered outside the prison. Mywiewen took note of the hostile glares sent their way. She was of half a mind to drag Holo out of the town and just forget about everything. She reminded herself she was in no state of mind to be making any decisions at the moment. She was tired, bombarded by too many opposing thoughts. She wasn't a stupid woman, nor an unobservant one. She was fully aware the tiefling had given up a chance to escape in order to help them. All she wanted at the moment was to retreat to her room and sleep, perhaps meditate a bit to clear her thoughts and give her an idea of how to act.

Holo, who was looking rather exhausted himself, paused and shook his head as they left the main square of the city. Mywiewen followed his gaze. Sitting in the middle of the road that led out of town was a wolf, its gray fur touched with pewter highlights. She blinked, noting that it seemed to be missing a leg, because its right front one was replaced with a peg held by a set of leather straps that circled its shoulders and neck.

"Silver. That's Angeline's wolf," Holo said quietly.

Silver rose to her feet and padded further down the road, then paused and looked back at them. Holo glanced up at the paladin. "Go on, dear, I'll be in no danger. You need your rest."

She sighed inwardly but gathered herself together. "You didn't see the looks you were getting, Holo. I'm not leaving you."

The gnome sighed but nodded. He really shouldn't have expected less from her. "Let's go then. Try not to arrest Angeline before I have a chance to yell at her."

* * *

K'rith stretched out on a log, watching Angeline pace back and forth. His expression was serene, hiding his anger very well. You didn't survive as a battle slave in drow society without learning to hide what you were thinking and feeling.

But the longer Valen was imprisoned, the more and more distraught Angeline became. In K'rith's world, that was unacceptable.

Much like Raal, K'rith considered the accusation that he didn't act like a proper drow to be the highest of compliments. Over the years, he'd come to the conclusion that the mindless arrogance of Lolth's followers was just that...utterly mindless. They were like wooly black sheep prancing about underneath the ground with their heads held high. Oh, just because they were pathetic didn't mean they were any less dangerous, but over the years, K'rith had started to wonder if Lolth was less a goddess and more of a disease. A follower of Vhaerun, K'rith spent a great deal of time helping other drow males escape to the surface, or a least escape from the cities. Even free, so many of them still kept the attitudes and ideas Lolth had instilled into the people she'd bred to dance around her in her little game.

And it was _him_ they considered corrupted. Which was _hilarious_.

Granted, he hadn't become as disgustingly surfacer as Raal had. He hadn't married a half elf. Hadn't sired an adorable mixed breed of a daughter.

But he'd cared enough about Raal to risk everything during a surface raid so many decades ago. K'rith had been a slave, and Raal had been the only one who had treated him with respect. The same respect as he'd shown to his brothers or any other male in the House, in fact. The bond between them made them more like brothers than any blood relation. So when a rival had crippled Raal during the raid, it really had not been much of a struggle for K'rith to save him and help them flee. And kill the bitch priestess leading the raid for good measure. It was that bond that kept him at Raal's side when it would have been far more prudent to abandon him. That kept them as brothers even as they forged new paths on the surface. And it had made him see Raal's offer to stand as a godfather to his daughter as an honor rather than a weakness.

It wasn't an empty title to him, either. He didn't have a firm set of moral codes like Mywiewen did, but he did have a personal code of his own. One of those codes was to utterly destroy anything that distressed his family in any way. If in this case, that meant raining a bit of terror and chaos down onto the village, well then...

Angeline went still, then changed into a panther and disappeared into the trees. Ah, the rest of the merry band was here.

K'rith sat up as Silver trotted into the clearing. She glanced up, unerringly picking out where Angeline was hiding, and then padded to K'rith, who stroked the top of her head gently as she flopped down at his feet.

* * *

Holo stifled a groan when he saw who was waiting for them in the clearing. He had expected someone had come along to help Angeline, but he had hoped it would be her mother. Or Raal, maybe.

Anyone but K'rith, really.

The drow grinned at them. Everything about that smile was trouble and most unfortunately, Holo knew he could deliver on it.

"Hello, K'rith." Holo tried to keep the sigh out of his voice. "Where is Angeline?"

K'rith pointed lazily at Mywiewen. "She can't arrest her if she can't find her."

He saw the paladin blink as she absorbed that and scowl. K'rith sent her an insolent smile and Holo could actually see her temper flare. He stepped between them. Wie wouldn't kill him for being a pain in the ass, but she might slug him if he provoked her too much.

K'rith either didn't notice or didn't care. He leaned back, scratching Silver behind the ears. "Rest assured she is within hearing. So, darlings, our Second Hero of Waterdeep is wrongfully imprisoned, which makes our dark angel up there all upset, which makes _me_ upset. What's the plan?"

"How do you know he's wrongfully imprisoned? You have not been here, you have not heard what's going on...drow," Mywiewen challenged him, eyes narrowed.

Holo saw a flicker of anger pass across K'rith's eyes and kept himself even more firmly between the two, reminded of the cold blooded killer that hid behind that mask. "Because...paladin, Valen is pathetically in love with Angeline and I doubt he even thinks of anyone else, much less a little girl...yes, Angeline told me what he's accused of. Because I can personally vouch for the fact those two can't keep their hands off each other, so even if he did think of anyone else, they wear each other out far too much for him to act on it." Wie actually blushed a bit, which made K'rith smirk. "Because he is a handsome demon of a fellow with the utmost confidence in himself, far from pitiful enough to have to be a rapist. Because the boy has _entirely_ too much honor for his own good. There's a bunch of reasons, take your pick. And before you add that I'm a drow and therefore as evil as he is, I've also never raped a woman. Nor have I ever had any urge to, not even the women in my early life, which even I find frankly surprising."

"I wasn't going to..."

"You might not have said it out loud, you mean."

Mywiewen's temper snapped. "Do _not _stand there and accuse me of making assumptions about you for what you are when you're doing that very thing to me!"

"_Children_," Holo yelled at the same time Angeline snarled from somewhere above them, "K'rith, I'm going to throw a rock at your head, so help me goddess!"

K'rith raised his hands in surrender with an odd smile and Mywiewen flushed, murmuring an apology.

"We don't have time for this. If Valen didn't do it, we have to find who did," Holo said. "With that plot failed, I doubt whoever hired those men to kill Valen will risk trying it again but with the people getting more angry we have, at best, a few days. We can't count on Sven keeping his promise of a fair trial."

"Even if he got one, the people wouldn't believe it," Angeline said, almost too quietly to be heard. Her voice kept moving, making her very hard to keep track of.

"There would be men waiting to lynch him the second he stepped out, even if Tyr himself descended from the sky to declare him innocent," K'rith agreed.

"You don't trust the law here to bring justice?" Mywiewen tilted her head back, looking up into the trees.

"I think someone is twisting the laws around because they aren't interested in justice," Angeline replied.

That was the first thing she'd said that struck a cord with Mywiewen. The young paladin fell silent, looking troubled.

"I don't understand why this is even in discussion. We wait until dark hits and then Angeline and I break him out. If we do it quietly enough we can be gone before they even notice and we can take care of the hunters they send after us," K'rith said.

"No." Mywiewen glared at him.

"That girl deserves justice," Holo said. He looked up into the dark branches above. "Would you leave this monster out there to prey on other children?"

There was silence from above.

The drow shook his head stubbornly. "Fine, we can hunt the bastard down _after_ we get Valen out safety, why should we risk his life any further?"

"Because almost all of the village men have taken to standing watch outside the Main Hall in shifts day and night, there is far too much a chance of that turning into a bloodbath," Holo said, shaking his head. K'rith scoffed and the priest glared at him. "These people are not evil, they are angry over a horrible crime. They do not deserve death or injury."

"If you attempt to break into the prison again, either of you, I'll alert the guard," Mywiewen said flatly.

"_Enough. Please._ We aren't going to get _anywhere _fighting every step of the way." Angeline came out of the trees in her real form. The pain in her eyes and voice made K'rith rise to his feet and Holo's heart clench. But Angeline's eyes weren't on either of them, fixed solely on Mywiewen. "I have not...we haven't...that is to say me, K'rith and Valen have all had...troubles with paladins because of what we are...and we don't have as much respect or experience with human laws either. I apologize for assuming anything about you. I want to save him without getting anyone else hurt. I do. But please believe me, he couldn't hurt a child. Not ever. He's a good man, I swear to you, the best there is. I love him so much..." Angeline swallowed hard, her eyes glittering. "Please just give him a chance. Give us a chance to prove it."

Mywiewen closed her eyes.

Not a stupid woman. Nor an unobservant one.

"If we find that someone else did it...the tiefling cannot be allowed to be sacrificed for another's crime," she said quietly, opening her eyes and nodding to Angeline.

"K'rith?" Holo looked over at him.

The drow sighed and shook his head, but made a slight gesture of assent. "Both Angeline and Evalain trust you, priest." He looked down at the gnome. "If Angeline is, I'm willing to step back and let you try and solve this lawfully. As long as you do it _fast_."

* * *

"Clive, don't do this." One of the hall guards chased after Clive Tefton as he stalked down the corridor, drawing his daughter along.

Clive wasn't listening, his eyes glittering with angry tears, his face twisted into a scowl to hide the pain that hadn't left him since his baby girl had come stumbling home with her dress torn, battered and violated. His little daughter. He hadn't been able to protect her. The idea of the beast in the cell sitting quiet and gloating over the pain he'd caused, gloating over ruining a young girl...it was driving him mad. He ignored the guard, looking down at his pale, shaking daughter. "He's not going to haunt you, Amarie, do you hear me? He's not worth it. You have to show the bastard he didn't win. _You_ won. He's in chains and he didn't win."

Amarie closed her eyes. She didn't want to see him again. Already the memories were overwhelming her, the pain, the terror, that voice calling her foul names and whispering obscenities. Papa had told her facing your fears down was the only way to conquer them and she had always tried to. She didn't want to fight her Papa but, oh, she didn't want to do this.

Clive stopped in front of the cell that had the knights and wizard guarding it, snarling at them. "I want to see him."

The wizard blinked at him. "Sir, if you please..."

"I want him to look my girl in the eye and see he didn't break her. _Do you hear me?_" Clive released his hold on Amarie's arm and slammed his fist against the door, pounding on it. "_Do you hear me, you filthy beast? You didn't break my girl! Does that pain you? I hope it does!_"

"Papa..."

Clive whipped around when one of the knights took a hold of his arm, his eyes blazing. "_No!_ Sven won't kill him until he gets a confession? Let him look my girl in the eye and deny it. Let him look _me_ in the eye and deny it!"

"Let him in," the wizard said. Amarie wasn't sure she liked her, there was something about the way her eyes glittered that she didn't like. The twist of her lips as if she found this funny.

The knight looked at her and she shrugged. "He's chained up. We're here. Let them in."

The knight hesitated for a moment. "If you attack him, sir, we'll have to stop you. For your own good. He's very dangerous."

"I won't get near him, I won't let him get in reach of my girl either," Clive stood in front of the door, pulling his daughter alongside him. "I can wait to watch him hang."

* * *

They had chained him up again when Valen had fallen asleep, exhausted by the fight and still recovering from his injuries. The tiefling leaned against the wall, head turned toward the small window. It was too high for him to get a good look at anything but daylight filtering into the cell, but he could occasionally hear angry yells. He wondered if there was a mob forming.

Waiting was killing him. He was no longer dying of sickness from his wounds, his health slowly returning. The problem with that was it left him clearheaded to grind his teeth over the situation. He trusted Angeline, but he _hated_ feeling helpless. Hated that these people were justified in their anger, but it was misdirected. He hated that he wouldn't be able to just stand back and let them take him; if they came for him, he would fight until he was free or dead and either way it would be someone who didn't deserve to die falling. And the ones who did deserve to die would walk away.

_Sometimes I wonder if there just is no justice for you and I, Angeline, _he thought. _We follow our own sense of honor because they only apply the laws to us when its convenient for them. Don't you get caught, no matter what._

He reached beneath his shirt and withdrew a plain silver ring hung on a chain around his neck, watching it glitter in the sunlight. He ran his thumb over it slowly, tracing the words etched into it. A prayer to Lurue, Angeline's goddess, for protection. She'd given it to him early in their relationship, at another point in their lives when everything was uncertain. Deep in the Hells, struggling to get back to Toril in order to stop Mephistopheles, when he'd felt the call of the Blood Wars pounding through his veins. He smiled as he remembered how furious she'd been at the mere suggestion she leave him behind. She'd pulled the ring off her finger and wrapped his fingers around it.

Voices beyond the door had him turning toward it. Good or bad, noises in the corridor usually meant something interesting was happening. The sound of pounding on the door and a man yelling made him frown in confusion.

The door swung open and a man stood there, looking at him with such hate in his eyes, Valen braced himself automatically, ready for an attack. The man drew a young girl inside the cell, which made Valen blink in shock, the scene so out of place he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

The girl stared at him with wide brown eyes. She couldn't have been more than fifteen, a pretty girl who would grow into a beautiful woman one day.

_You didn't break her._ The man's cries clicked in his head as he realized who they had to be. He held very still, glancing silently between the girl and her father, making himself relax. He'd hold the father off if he attacked him but he wouldn't bring more pain to this family. And if _she _attacked him...well she couldn't do much damage.

Neither of them moved. The man looked like he was having visions of hurting him but he wasn't acting on them. And the girl...

Valen met her gaze, blue eyes to brown, unable to feel anything but sympathy. Of everyone, she'd suffered the most and she was the least deserving of it. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for all the pain she had been put through but that might sound like a confession. He was sorry for her pain but he wouldn't pretend to be responsible for it. She was frowning at him, her brow furrowed.

"_Demon_," the man hissed. He put an arm around his daughter's shoulder. "She's too strong for you, see? When you're dead and rotting, she'll still be alive and put all this behind her."

Valen wondered how many times the man had told himself that, how much he needed it to be true. He said nothing, which only seemed to enrage the man further. He was shaking with rage, fire in his eyes. "You think staying quiet will save you? If Sven won't kill you, I will. I'll spend the rest of my life hunting you down if that's what it takes."

Valen turned his head away, feeling tired and sad.

"_Say something_." That demand hadn't come from the father. It came from the girl. Valen turned back to look at her. She was trembling slightly in her father's hold but there was something in her eyes that wasn't exactly fear and it wasn't exactly anger. He had no proper word for what it was.

"What do you want me to say?" He finally asked her quietly, spreading one hand in a helpless gesture. His other hand still gripped the ring.

The girl looked almost stricken, her eyes going even wider. She stared at him silently for a few moments, then spoke again, taking him by surprise: "That ring is too small for your finger..."

He blinked at her. "It was my wife's. She gave it to me," he spoke before he thought. The word wife came to his lips easily, although they had never made it official. If and when he got out of this, he thought maybe they should remedy that...

The girl closed her eyes and shook her head slowly.

Everyone was staring at her then, including her father. The man glared at him and drew her close, turning her toward the door. "Come on then. He'll pay eventually. You don't have to see him any longer." The words were meant for her but he never took his eyes off the chained tiefling.

Valen paid him no heed, his eyes on the girl, wondering what was going on inside her head. He continued to stare at the door thoughtfully long after they had closed it.

* * *

Clive was silent as they walked away from the Hall, glancing at his daughter uncomfortably as they walked. Now that the anger and pain was starting to fade he wasn't so sure that had been the best thing for her. She was so quiet...

He laid a hand on her shoulder gently. She didn't flinch away the way she had been the past weeks when someone touched her. As a matter of fact, she looked odd. Troubled.

Even more uncertain, Clive paused, making her look at him. "I'm sorry if that was hard for you but I think facing the one who hurt you..."

"He didn't."

It took Clive a long moment to absorb that. His jaw went slack with surprise. "Wh-what?"

Amarie turned her head to stare at the Hall.

_Little bitch. You've been asking for this._

She hadn't seen the face of her attacker, but she had heard his voice. It haunted her dreams, the horrible words and curses backed up by the unpleasantness of his voice.

_Make sure to tell your husband to send me a prayer of thanks for breaking you in proper. If anyone will have you._

Even when he'd been done, mocking her as he stood up, aiming a kick at her side to make sure she stayed down...even calm, his voice had grated on her ears. Screechy, high pitched and whining.

_It was my wife's._

The sight of the chained tiefling, with those horns and those frightening eyes, had scared her at first. But his voice...even when he'd been surprised, his voice was so deep...

"Papa...it wasn't him."


	7. Before the Storm

Mywiewen had never had an opportunity to see a disaster slowly build up. This first experience for her was not a welcome one.

She had sworn to uphold law and order, two cornerstones of her belief. When people took the law into their own hands it was an open invitation to chaos and death for innocents. But her training and experience didn't cover what to do when an entire town was ready to do just that.

Why wasn't Sven seeing this? The lord mayor had been strangely silent. More and more people were parking themselves outside the prison, the grumbles getting louder. She and Holo had quietly moved to the camp Angeline and K'rith were keeping in the woods because she didn't consider it safe in the inn for the gnome cleric anymore.

That left the more roguish half of their strange little group to investigate and try and figure out who had really committed the crime. It was driving both her and Holo insane having to wait but there was little they could do right now except brave the wrath of the people in order to maintain a presence in the town. It was this that allowed Mywiewen to observe with worry that eventually the mercenaries and the guards in the prison weren't going to be enough to intimidate the people from taking justice into their own hands.

And all the while, Lord Sven seemed content to let the storm build up, no matter that so many of his people would die.

It was like being crushed in a blacksmith's vice. On one side were the increasingly angry people, and on the other side were Angeline and K'rith and the sheer chaos they could unleash on the town if they had to step up to defend Valen.

Mywiewen stood quietly in one of the lower rooms of the prison. The size of the crowd seemed to have swelled within the space of a day, which was worrisome. There was something about the way they murmured and fixed their gazes on the prison that made her curl her fingers around the hilt of her sword.

Beside her, Holo peered through the window. "So much suffering, Wie," he murmured. "And no way to stop more of it."

She wished she could disagree.

* * *

During his years on the surface, K'rith often had the opportunity to observe humans as skilled at manipulating things as his own people. Not many, mind, but they existed. Benjain Coffinn, Angeline's grandfather, was one of them. He held his little criminal empire with the skill of any Matron Mother. He'd also come across several in Calimport and Lusken.

But not here.

Generally, when one was trying to take down a well seated ruler, one needed to start from the bottom and work one's way up. That was assuming said ruler, however, was a competent one, which Sven was not. It had been a task of simple deduction to come to the conclusion of who was at least spearheading this plot. Sven was a politician of a very small town who had tried to make use of a situation and lost control over it.

Granted, if Holo hadn't shown up, he probably would have gotten away with it.

The drow had taken it upon himself to do a bit of snooping about. Unlike Holo, he had worked to great extent on the shady side of many a town, and they all had them in one way or another. Unlike Mywiewen, he was absolutely certain of Valen's innocence.

Damn the paladin. Damn all paladins. He didn't doubt if they broke Valen out, she'd hunt them to the ends of the world if that's what it took, and probably bring her order in on it too. People obsessed with complete order did as much damage as people obsessed with complete chaos, that was his considered opinion. Tyr and Lloth walked parallel paths on opposite sides.

He swept his gaze over the roof across the street. He saw the faintest flash of movement as a bird fluttered from one roof to another: Angeline letting him know where she was.

K'rith would have made her stay behind if he thought she would listen to him. Subtlety was not a strong point of Angeline's. She had agreed to stay back out of sight, at least. He nodded and turned back to Lord Sven's townhouse. There was a light in his office even this late at night.

The drow scaled the wall slowly, angling himself into the shadows, until he was clinging just outside the office window. Lord Sven was pacing slowly back and forth in front of the fireplace. He did that a lot.

Until now, Sven hadn't done or said anything useful but tonight the well dressed, rather bloated young man who had just arrived by carriage had piqued K'rith's curiosity.

He tapped an amulet around his neck, one of his many toys, and added a layer of invisibility to shield himself from prying eyes as he moved closer to the window, his keen ears picking up on the conversation as the young man burst into the office, slamming the door open hard enough it banged against the wall.

Sven turned from the fireplace, looking livid. "How dare you come barging..."

"One of my friends in the prison guards came to me and told me that little bitch's father brought her there the other day and came back today asking questions about the demon." The younger man started pacing, his movements fast and jerky. He reminded K'rith of a big, fat, panicky bird. He was almost crashing into the walls. "She _knows_! The little bitch _knows_..."

"Bran!" Sven barked, "Calm down!" He moved around the desk, leaning against it as if for support. "Clive Tefton came to speak to me as well. The girl doesn't know anything and he's not sure he can believe her."

K'rith narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Just kill the damned demon!" The young man, Bran, almost shrieked it. "If you can't do it, I have some friends ready and we will!"

Sven swiped a hand over his forehead, looking furious and slightly desperate, which didn't make K'rith feel any better. It just showed the man knew for a fact he didn't have control over this situation and probably never had. "Listen to me, you little prick..."

Another man, this one dressed in a guardsman's outfit, came running in. "Sir! We've got a problem in the square! The captain said you'd better come speak to the crowd right away!"

K'rith cursed and dropped down from the window, scaling down the wall quickly as Angeline swooped down. So close...and he didn't have any proof, just suspicions. "So much for the law."

* * *

Sven should have been reassured by the bodyguards surrounding him as he made his way to the prison steps. The mob wasn't so far gone they were ready to attack him on sight, which he took as a positive sign. He turned his gaze to the Guard-Captain and nodded. "Have them bring him out..."

He mounted the steps and turned to face the crowd. Most of them were peasants and farmers, friend of the Teftons. Most of the nobles were hovering on the outskirts, watching everything with a mixture of fear and fascination, including Emeric. He couldn't see Bran and that worried him.

Sven felt like a man on the edge of an abyss with no idea of how he'd gotten there. The people should have been cheering him as they hung the demon and everyone could have moved on and forgotten about all of this. It was that damned gnome and his grim faced guardian. This was all their fault. Looking back, he should have allowed a trial, as much a mockery of the law as that would have been. The paladin wouldn't have been able to argue with a lawful decision and no jury would have allowed the demon to walk free.

A sound like the snarl of an animal rose from the crowd and Sven glanced back to see the paladin and the gnome cleric stepping out of the prison behind him, which grew into a rumble as the demon was led out.

The insane idea, driven by desperation, seized a hold of his brain: If only the mob would take all three of them down...paladin, priest, and demon...

It had a sort of natural symmetry to it...


	8. Breaking Point

"My fellow citizens, I know you're eager to see justice done." Sven shifted off to the side so the crowd had a clear view of Valen. "Our honored guests have insisted on the law being followed in this case. However, even after the demon attempted to escape, it wasn't enough to convince them of his guilt..."

Mywiewen was frowning at Sven slightly, not understanding what he was up to, but K'rith, hiding in the shadows, knew precisely what the bastard was doing. So did Valen. The tiefling was straightening up in his chains, looking malnourished and thinner than usual but K'rith didn't doubt he'd fought much more dangerous enemies in a worse state. He silently applauded the tiefling for the obvious fact he wasn't going to simply sit back and let Sven sic a mob on him without a fight.

Sven was good, K'rith gave him that. He was slowly pushing the crowd while not being obvious about it. It was almost mesmerizing to watch that kind of skill put to work while the man was completely oblivious to exactly how much hell he was about to unleash.

Sven didn't know K'rith was hiding in the shadows, for instance. He didn't realize exactly what kind of a warrior he was going to unleash once he backed Valen into a corner. He didn't know Angeline was perched in the shape of a hawk on the top of the prison, ready to bring the forces of nature tearing through the square the likes of which he doubted anyone down there had ever seen before.

The drow smiled. Hell of a way to bring an end to this whole mess.

He glanced up at Angeline and backed into the shadows again, moving silently around so he'd be at the best angle to help Valen out.

Between him and Angeline, they would probably be able to protect him long enough to get him out...and maybe the paladin and priest too.

* * *

If he was reading the crowd right, all he needed was for someone's outrage and anger to run out of control. Sven smirked inwardly, already planning his backtrack into the prison so he could avoid the rush to get to the tiefling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bran ride up in a wagon with a group of his cronies. The young man was grinning, obviously thinking he was free and clear. Sven didn't like that smile at all, frowning inwardly. Sure enough, Bran couldn't resist grandstanding. He slammed his fist down on the seat of the wagon, pointing at the tiefling. "We've let those two outsiders keep us from justice long enough! Kill the thing!"

Bran, in Sven's opinion, had a very unpleasant voice, especially when he got excited. It rose into a high pitched, screechy sound. Despite that, the words seemed to have some effect. There was a rumble of approval from the crowd, a restless shifting that seemed to make the entire mass of people shiver.

Bran's eyes were gleaming madly, he was riding on the drama of the moment. He leaned down off the wagon and pulled someone up close to it. "Stand aside, paladin, are you really going to look this poor little thing in the eye and stand in the way of justice?"

This time the crowd roared but Sven barely noticed. Bran had pulled Amarie Tefton up close to him as he spoke, displaying her to the crowd against her will. Sven saw her face clear enough to see her eyes go wide with fear and dawning comprehension as she turned to look at Bran.

As he saw Bran meet her eyes and freeze, anger and panic flickering across his face, all hell broke loose around them.

* * *

Amarie's only clear thought was that she was very sorry her father was trying to get to the front of the crowd. She'd been proud of him when he'd murmured he was going to the front to try and help the paladin and the gnome calm the crowd. She'd been trying to tell people she didn't think the demon man had been the one who had hurt her but no one was really listening. It might have helped if she could remember who _had _done it, but she hadn't.

Until now. Amarie froze and stared up into the eyes of a man she'd only seen once or twice, driving with his friends past their house. A nobleman's son, that's all she knew. And someone her Papa had told her to steer clear of.

That _voice._ "Y-you..."

His eyes widened and his face turned dark and ugly. He struggled to hide it, tightening his grip on her arm. "Listen, girl..."

"_Let go of me!"_ Her shriek was swallowed by the roar of the crowd as they surged toward the stage. She tried to cry out for help, struggled to wrench her arm free but his grip tightened even more, hurting her, as he dragged her up into the wagon. Before she could try to scream again, more hands grabbed her, muffling her screams, pressing her down onto the hard boards as the nobleman cracked the reins and the wagon jerked into motion.

* * *

Things happened so fast and so suddenly Valen barely had time to take it all in.

He'd been standing with his head bowed, muscles tense, holding himself absolutely still. It gave the impression he was preparing for a fight, or else he was unable to look the crowd in the face. In fact, he was working not to draw attention to the fact K'rith, using some kind of invisibility charm, had pulled off the miraculous stunt of wedging himself in between Valen, Lord Sven, and the wizard who was guarding Valen's other side without being detected and was very carefully picking the locks on his manacles. The ones on his feet were already loose but he had to hold his hands still, not wanting the loosened cuffs to fall off yet and alert the guards before he had a clear path to escape without having to fight too many people to get free. He frankly didn't mind taking down Sven or the mercenaries guarding him but he wanted to avoid hurting the townspeople unless he absolutely had to.

K'rith had just gotten the first manacle around his wrist undone when the girl's father had suddenly pushed through the front of the crowd, moving toward the platform they all stood on. His eyes weren't on Valen, but the man in front of him. "Lord Sven..."

His words were drowned out as the loudmouth in the back suddenly started shouting out, his words the breaking point for the crowd. They surged toward the platform, screaming for blood.

Mywiewen had been trying to edge toward Valen with the intention of getting him back into the prison but the two mercenaries and the wizard were blocking her way.

Sven started to stumble back and that was when K'rith decided to add to the chaos. He appeared directly behind Sven and planted a foot squarely in the center of his back, sending him flying forward into the crowd. He didn't even have time to scream as he was trampled.

The drow stepped into full view, throwing something down onto the ground that sent a small cloud of smoke billowing up, throwing his green cloak back with a dramatic flair, the late afternoon sun gleaming off his black skin.

Even the maddened crowd surged back at the sight of a drow, alarmed and confused screams rising from all sides. At the same time, Silver appeared at the edge of the crowd, throwing her head back and letting loose a howl that shivered through the bones of everyone present, causing even more fear and confusion.

The wizard on the platform brought her staff up and Mywiewen pulled her sword as Holo started chanting some kind of shielding spell for her.

Valen heard it all, saw it all, and absorbed none of it. His attention was focused across the bobbing heads of the crowd to the outskirts, had been focused on it from the moment the girl's father had cried out her name, anguished, the sound lost in the crowd. The man could only watch, fighting against the crowd moving forward, as the girl was dragged up into the wagon, her screams muffled, no doubt, as much as her father's had been.

As K'rith appeared, making the crowd fall back, and the paladin engaged his captors, Valen rose, looking up at the sound of a hawk shrieking above them. He knew that sound, recognized the hawk with dark markings far above them. Angeline swept down toward him as the boy whipped his horses to get them going, the wagon sending up a cloud of dust as they sped past the prison and down the streets that would take them out of town. Angeline swept past him and he shook the loosened shackle off, knowing he only had minutes before even K'rith and Silver's well timed distraction would fail to hold the crowd. He spoke quietly, trusting on her sharp senses to catch the words as she moved past. "Clear a path for me, my angel..."

Angeline, being Angeline, did so with much aplomb. She'd obviously seen which direction the wagon had gone as well because she flew in that direction and dove toward the crowd. Luckily it was thin there, but Valen still felt a sick lurch of fear that she would be trampled. He needn't have worried. Even before she hit the ground, she was shifting into her true form long enough to change into her more favored one of a panther.

Up until that point, the crowd had been caught between anger and fear, but the sudden appearance of a panther coupled with the deep throated roar Angeline let loose sent that area of the crowd scattering in mindless terror. Behind him, Valen heard K'rith laugh but he didn't stay to see whatever the drow was doing. As soon as the way was clear, he jerked free of the loose shackles on his legs and was moving, leaping off the platform and running, his eyes fixed on that dissipating dust trail the wagon had left behind. He was barely aware of a black shape falling into step beside him, then leaping in front of him. Angeline guiding his way, her senses keener than his in her current form.

Several people tried to follow when they noticed but Clive leapt in front of them, the big man shoving them back with ferocity. Fear and rage were pounding through his head. Bran. Bran Forrester. He should have known, should have _known_ it was him. Hadn't he seen him sniffing around the farm when he had no right to be there? Hadn't he felt that stirring of unease at the look in his eyes whenever he looked Amarie's way? If he hadn't been so damned blinded he might have thought of it sooner.

He turned as the tiefling disappeared faster than he'd ever seen a man move, too wrapped up in fear and hope to see the irony of the fact he was now trusting the man he'd thought had hurt his daughter to save her life.

* * *

Mywiewen drove a fist into the wizard's face, cutting off her attempt at a spell, feeling one of her companion's sword screech along her armor. The other woman staggered and Wie drove the hilt of her sword into her stomach then elbowed her in the face once more, sending her flying back. She turned to meet the other two, her sword clashing against the one who had attacked her. The other moved to flank her and K'rith appeared out of nowhere, deflecting his blow with a rapier. The man faltered at the sight of the drow and K'rith threw him off the platform into the crowd. He turned and kicked the prison door open, dragging Holo away mid-prayer and almost tossing him through. Mywiewen turned to snarl at him even as she took down the last mercenary. K'rith was unimpressed and motioned her in, throwing the door shut behind them as the crowd started to regroup. "We can go through the back. Valen and Angeline headed that way already."

Mywiewen frowned at him as she helped Holo up. K'rith glanced over his shoulder, his rapier still out as he glided toward the back of the prison. "Unless you want to stand for law and order to the crowd out there."

Someone hit the door with a loud bang.

"Shut up, K'rith," Holo muttered. Mywiewen pressed her lips in a tight line, pushing him in front of her, following the drow without comment.

* * *

Bran was terrified but oddly exhilarated at the same time as he sped along. He was furious that the girl had obviously recognized him but at the same time thrilled he'd gotten away without anyone noticing. He could take care of this little problem himself now. Sven wasn't man enough to do the job but _he_ wasn't. He really should have taken care of it from the start, really, he was so much more competent than Sven, even though his father considered him a good puppet.

_He_ knew how to take care of a woman when she became a problem.

It was so perfect. The crowd would kill the demon and if the girl disappeared without a trace, there would be no one left to point a finger at him for something that wasn't really his fault anyway. Not really. A man had needs after all, if she'd been a little more accommodating...

Bran drew his thoughts away from that path as he turned into a forest path, aiming for the outer roads. It was a dangerous area but private. He was still trying to work out a way to explain the girl's disappearance should anyone have the audacity to question him. Demon magic, maybe? Yea, that could work. Well, he'd come to that if it came up. In the meantime they had to make sure the girl was never found. He briefly entertained the idea of having some fun with her first, but decided against it. He'd treat his friends to a night at the best whorehouse in the city to make up for it, but it was better to get all of this over and done with...

He slowed the wagon as the woods closed in on the path, ducking to avoid branches. He heard laughter behind him and the muffled cries of the girl and glanced back, grinning. As he did so, he caught a flash of something moving very fast off to the side, in the forest. "What in the hells...?"

Bran spun to look, slowing down even more, suddenly nervous. They had weapons, he reminded himself. They could handle any animal that came their way.

There was a creak from the woods and the trees around him started to sway, rustled as if by a breeze, but there was no wind...

All the trees around them were swaying by now, creaking and rustling so much it almost sound like a thousand people whispering something he couldn't make out. "Bran..." one of his friends said quietly behind him, sounding nervous.

The horses were starting to get spooked and he clucked at them, hurrying them forward a bit until they got into a clearing. He thought a more open area would make things a bit better but as they approached the center of the clearing, one of his friends cried out a warning as a loud creak came from off to the side. He barely had time to turn before he was completely enveloped in leaves and branches, the wind knocked out of him as he was slammed up and out, thrown from the seat of the wagon and crashing into the ground.

Amarie, bound and gagged on the bed of the wagon, lifted her head as frightened cries came from all around her. She started trying to scoot toward the back of the wagon while they were distracted, jumping out of the wagon to help their leader or thrown from them as the horses reared, frightened. The movement helped her, tipping the wagon back a bit so she slid toward the back. She pressed against the side, slowly managing to inch up bit by bit. She lifted her head to make sure no one had noticed her, so she was the first to see the figure emerge from the other side of the clearing.

Amarie's first thought was she was some kind of dryad or forest spirit like the ones her mother told her about in stories, especially when she ran a hand down the trunk of one tree and seemed to murmur to it. The rustling and creaking subsided around them and the woman continued forward. Her skin was an odd charcoal gray shade and she had long, wild black hair. Her eyes were golden brown and Amarie froze as they flicked toward her. The woman gave her a small smile and nodded, as if trying to reassure her, and then turned her attention to the men. She reached out as she came to the still frightened horses and took hold of the reins, crooning softly to them in a language that Amarie had never heard before.

Bran was on his feet by then and they all had noticed her, freezing in sheer surprise. Bran was the first to recover, pasting on a brave front to cover his nervousness. "Who in the hells are you?" When he realized he was acting nervous because of a woman, his anger helped push his fear back. He raked his gaze over her, his lips twisting into a leer. She was wearing tight brown and black leathers that were so stretched and tattered in some places that they barely covered her properly. Too skinny for his tastes but she was attractive enough.

His friends, bolstered by his growing confidence, started to form a circle around her, snickering.

"Was that you playing tricks on us there. Huh?" Bran stepped up close to her when she didn't answer, trying to intimidate her. He wasn't much taller than she was but he outweighed her considerably. "Are you one of those hedge witches? Thought you could play games with us? Maybe thought you'd save the day?" He snickered and looked up at his friends as they closed in. "I wasn't going to let you guys play with the girl but maybe she can make up for it, hmm?"

Amarie was struggling to free her hands, thoroughly frightened for the woman. There were five of them, including the leader, all much bigger and stronger than she was. Amarie wasn't sure what she could do if she did get free but she remembered all too well what that bastard man had done and she just couldn't sit back and watch it happen to someone else.

As one of them grabbed the woman's arms from behind, strong arms suddenly slid beneath Amarie and lifted her out of the wagon. She stiffened, panicking, and looked up into steady blue eyes. She realized with a jolt of shock that it was the demon man. He glanced over his shoulder and carried her down the path away from the wagon, as laughter echoed behind him.

The tiefling knelt and settled her on the ground, freeing her arms and legs and pulling the gag from her mouth. "Are you all right?"

"I'm...they didn't hurt me, no...but that woman..." She twisted around as a burst of louder laughter came from the front of the wagon even though she couldn't see anything anymore.

"She can take care of herself, don't worry, and I'm going to her the second you're away from here. She just needed to distract them long enough for you to get away. Can you walk?" The man helped her to her feet.

She swayed for a moment but nodded slowly. "I think so."

"Good. Head down the road, all right? I think your father will be catching up with us soon." He looked off to the side and Amarie jolted as she noticed a dog had come up beside them. No...not a dog, a wolf...

"Don't be afraid. This is Silver. She's going to walk with you and make sure you get back to your father safely." The man guided her hand to the wolf's back and she stroked her fur gingerly. The wolf made a whuffing sound and shook her head, making her ears flap. Amarie smiled despite herself. She was so pretty and funny looking at the same time, clumping along with a peg in place of one of her front legs.

Silver started forward, pausing to make sure that Amarie was following. Amarie looked up at the demon man. "What are you going to..." She trailed off, looking behind him.

The demon man glanced over his shoulder and then back to her, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder gently. "He will never hurt you...or anyone...ever again, that's all you need to know." He turned her around and pushed her gently toward Silver, who whuffed softly again. "Go on, little one, just keep following Silver. She'll take care of you." Amarie looked back at him, laying a hand on the wolf's back and starting down the road. She believed him, and that thought made her feel safer than she had in a long time.

* * *

Bran grabbed the woman's breast through her leathers and twisted it viciously. She hissed in pain, looking irritated, and Bran felt his anger growing with each passing second. She obviously didn't like them touching her but it was the _fear_ he wanted to see, the sign he had full control here, and she wasn't obliging. She acted like she was just enduring some kind of annoying but inevitable encounter with someone she really didn't like, but she wasn't afraid of them.

As he raised his fist to hit her, she glanced over at something beyond them and suddenly whipped her head around, sinking her teeth into the arm of the man holding her. He screamed in surprise and jerked back. Bran heard a sickening tearing sound as she tore a chunk of flesh free, blood soaking his friend's arm. She turned her head back toward him, bearing bloody teeth with frighteningly sharp incisors at him and hissing softly. He stumbled back, stunned, and spun around as a gurgling scream came from behind him.

A scene from a nightmare awaited him. The demon man...who should have been _dead_...was standing beside the wagon, one of his friends dangling from his hold, his neck obviously broken. The tiefling dropped the body and stepped over it, his blue eyes locking with his.

And Bran simply froze, only vaguely aware of the rush of warmth down his legs as his bladder let go. Barely noticing the cries of his friends as they tried to escape and died screaming in ways he couldn't see because he _could not look away_.

Those eyes held pain, rage, and power the likes of which Bran had never seen in his life. They were the eyes of a man who had endured and survived things Bran couldn't even have imagined in his worst nightmares. The eyes of a man who was going to kill him and there was nothing, absolutely _nothing_, that could save him.

Dimly, he started to back away and someone kicked his legs out from under him from behind. He slammed into the ground on his back, his head cracking against the grass, and stared up dazedly as the woman glided past him. She had a spear in her hand though where she'd gotten it he had no idea. She stared down at him with rage and contempt glowing in her eyes. The demon came up behind her, running his hands down her arms in a gesture that was possessive and tender at the same time. It spiked Bran's terror up another notch, which he had not thought possible, because there was no possible way the demon had failed to see Bran lifting a hand to the woman.

The woman reached down for him, gripping the front of his shirt. "It's not as much fun when the victim can actually fight back, eh?" She hauled him up, her nails digging painfully into his arm.

"_She wanted it!"_ Bran shrieked it, thrashing in her hold suddenly, desperate, trying to get away.

The woman made a low sound that raked along his spine, a rattling growl that belonged to an animal. Her nails tore into him and he couldn't stop the whimper that came from his throat. "Goddess, you're a disgusting beast..."

The tiefling spoke quietly. "He's mine, angel."

That was even worse. Bran struggled as the woman spun him to face the demon man, his voice so high and desperate he barely recognized it as his own. "You c-can't do anything. You...you're not the law around here."

"No, he is justice." The woman shoved him forward and the tiefling reached out, catching hold of him in a crushing grip. There was a sharp, painful wrenching in this neck and everything started to fade. The last thing he knew was the dull thump as his body hit the ground, dropped like so much garbage.

* * *

At some point right before they came across Clive Tefton and the girl, Mywiewen became aware that K'rith was no longer with them. She paused and looked around but he was nowhere in sight. She caught a flash of pale fur out of the corner of her eye. Silver paused at the edge of the woods for a moment, then vanished into their depths, leaving nothing more than a faint trembling of leaves.

"Thank you!"

A young woman's voice brought the paladin's attention back around. Holo hurried to meet the pair. Clive had an arm around his daughter's shoulders. The girl was waving in the direction the wolf had disappeared. She let her hand drop as Holo came up and allowed the gnome to look her over, sitting down by the side of the road. Holo clucked and shook his head, working on healing her injuries but he wasn't overly worried so she obviously wasn't too badly hurt.

The girl lifted her dark eyes to Mywiewen as the paladin approached, looking in the direction they had come from. "It wasn't him. The demon man. He didn't do it."

"Bran Forrester," Clive spoke through gritted teeth, anger and guilt warring across his face. "I _saw_ that little bastard sniffing around but I didn't think...I didn't think. I'm so sorry, 'Marie." He brushed her hair away from her face with a trembling hand.

Amarie caught it and squeezed it gently. She would never be the same innocent girl she'd been a few weeks ago but she looked like perhaps she was starting to heal. "He saved me, Papa. And sent me back to you. Him and that forest lady..."

"Where are they now?" Mywiewen asked.

The girl shrugged. "He went back to the men after he sent me down the road with the wolf."

Holo glanced up and met Wie's eyes. They would go check, of course, but Bran and his cronies were certainly dead.

"Well, young lady, I think you've had a very trying day. You let your father take you home and let your mother fuss over you a little bit, it'll do you both good." Holo patted her shoulder.

"Everyone needs to know it wasn't him," Amarie said with surprising vehemence.

Holo heard shouts further down the road toward the town but not, he thought with relief, the roar of a mob. Maybe they could get through the rest of this night without anymore injuries. He patted Amarie's shoulder again as Clive knelt to help her up. "They will, my dear."

Clive wrapped an arm around Amarie again, looking down at her with pride in his eyes. "Yeah...they will."

"'Wie?" Holo spoke quietly to the paladin, who was still looking down the forest path. He tipped his head back to look at her as she turned toward him. "I could use your help..." He nodded toward people coming down the road. He let the words unspoken hang in the air between them, letting her make her choice: if she really wanted to track Valen and Angeline down for taking the law into their own hands, he wouldn't stop her. Or judge her.

Mywiewen met his gaze for a long moment, glanced back at the path, and turned her back on it finally, shaking her head at Holo. "Like I can leave you alone for two seconds."


	9. Epilogue

_Two years later..._

"What _is _that?" Mywiewen stared at the creature moving through Haven's orchards with wide eyes.

Holo glanced over. "That's Vetta, she's a groundskeeper."

"She's half spider!"

"I'm sure she knows that, Wie. Stop staring, people will think you're a tourist."

"Don't call me Wie." The paladin turned her gaze away however, aware she was being rude.

"I'll introduce you two later, she is a most excellent chess player. I think you'll like her."

"No doubt..." Mywiewen was staring again as something that looked like a tiny Beholder swept past them, muttering to itself without glancing their way.

Haven was quite an experience for Mywiewen. She was seeing more strange folk on the walk up to the library than she'd seen her entire life.

"Evelain!" Holo waved, hurrying up the rest of the path to the door of the library where a tall, dark haired woman was standing. She smiled warmly at them both, extending her hands in welcome. "Holo, it's always good to see you. And you must be Mywiewen."

"My lady." Mywiewen bowed politely to the woman who stood as one of Haven's leaders. She was a bit of a surprise, there wasn't a hint of Angeline's wildness in her mother. On the contrary, Mywiewen saw a bit of a kindred spirit in her, her manner firm and calm, her eyes those of a woman who had little patience for disorder.

"I'm very sorry we couldn't make it for the wedding. We got the invitations but it took a long time to get things straightened out once Lord Sven recovered," Holo said chattily as she led them into the library.

"I take it you finally did get things straightened out, though?" Evelain said, guiding them past the shelves toward the back halls.

"Yes. Lord Sven stepped down voluntarily after the investigations proved he was dealing with some rather...unsavory characters...in order to bring in more wealth and trade," Mywiewen said with distaste. "The one that stepped up to take his place is a much more honest man."

"Good. Angeline told me a little and Holo's letters explained a bit more. Imagine being willing to let a man who hurt a child get away with it just to keep trade up." Evelain shook her head.

Mywiewen noticed she made no mention of Valen's time there and there was a guarded look in her eyes she'd also seen in Holo's. No one was quite sure what would happen when she came face to face with the tiefling again. She wasn't sure herself. She still didn't approve of Valen and Angeline killing the five men but after hearing Amarie speak of what they'd done to her and knowing how badly Sven had twisted and broken the laws to suit his own needs, she couldn't condemn them for it.

The library was crowded with people of all ages and races. Laughter and singing came from all directions, food and drinks were piled all over the tables and Wie even saw some people dancing around. Evelain caught her gaze and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "I promise usually it actually looks like a library but everyone is celebrating today." She smiled at Holo. "Angeline could not have stopped all the blessings being heaped on them with all the different clerics we have around here but she wanted yours specifically, Holo."

The gnome almost glowed with pleasure. "I would be honored."

"She's back in the garden, I think. It's right through..."

A loud voice Mywiewen recognized came from off to the side. "All I'm saying is maybe bringing that group that just escaped from Ched Nasad would be interesting. It's getting disgustingly domestic around here." K'rith was leaning against the arched doorway that led to the back hallways of the library, gesturing with one hand as he spoke to another drow that Mywiewen assumed to be Raal, Evelain's husband.

Evelain narrowed her eyes as they approached. "You are _not_ bringing drow straight from the Underdark here. _Especially_ not now."

"Really, K'rith, you will have to teach them some manners first. Remember how we were when we first came to the surface," Raal said mildly. He glanced over and nodded politely to them when Holo introduced them.

"Oh, you two are no fun." K'rith gave a long suffering sigh and pushed away from the wall. He gave Mywiewen a slightly mocking little bow and disappeared into the crowd before she could speak.

Evelain shook her head and Raal turned his dark eyes to Mywiewen, cocking a white eyebrow. "Thank you for not killing him, by the way."

"It was a hard thing a couple of times," Wie said dryly.

"Believe me, we know," Evelain replied, her voice equally dry.

The garden out back of the library wasn't quite as crowded but it was equally chaotic. A small group had gathered at the far edge and were laughing as several wizards made wild designs in the sky out of sparks and colored smoke.

The sweet laughter of a child drew Mywiewen's attention to a large fountain. Angeline was seated in a chair beside it, her gaze turned toward the crowd. Valen stood behind her, his tail curled around to rest against his leg, his hand on the back of his wife's chair. And just to make sure the scene was in no danger of seeming normal, sitting on a cushion in front of Angeline was a kobold who appeared to have wings, a lute laying next to him. He was scribbling something down on a scroll, his wings flexing pensively.

Valen turned his head as they approached. For a long moment, he and Mywiewen regarded each other. The paladin remembered her first sight of him, dying in a cell for a crime he hadn't committed and never would have while she condemned him out of hand. And the sight of him giving up the chance to run in order to help them.

She believed in order. She believed in the law with everything in her. But she was willing to accept that on rare occasions what seemed obvious and lawful wasn't so.

Mywiewen gave him a simple, respectful nod and after a moment, Valen returned it, his gaze moving to Holo as he stepped aside. Angeline turned to greet them, beaming at them. She looked tired and a little thin but her eyes were shining. Across the garden, the wizards made a great dragon of smoke with multicolored butterfly wings sweep up into the sky and the baby in Angeline's lap let out another gale of sweet laughter, making a smile tug on Wie's lips automatically.

Holo hurried forward, standing in front of Angeline's chair. Angeline shifted so he could see the baby. "I'm so glad you two could make it. This is Lyrra."

"She's beautiful, Angeline," Holo murmured.

She was. The little girl looked up at the two newcomers in her world with suspicious blue eyes, exactly the same clear, bright shade as her father's. She had a thin cap of hair that was already starting shade to red and her clear skin had a dusky undertone to it. The suspicion faded into fascination as Holo let her grab his finger with her tiny ones as he performed the blessing.

Valen reached down and ran a hand down Angeline's hair softly and she smiled up at him.

The kobold paused as Holo finished the blessing, eyeing the gnome. "Glad you didn't wish the baby suffering like some of your priests do. Deekin was going to write that out if you was."

"Deekin is recording the occasion as he tries to come up with a song to commemorate it," Angeline said, laughing as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of Holo's head in thanks.

"'Try' being the key word," Valen muttered.

"How is the girl, Holo?" Angeline laid a hand on his shoulder, looking at him, then Mywiewen. Valen lifted his head.

"She's doing just fine, my dear. Amarie is a strong girl, I believe she is destined for great things. She sent you both her thanks and well wishes."

They both smiled and the group stood in a moment of peaceful silence. It was broken after a mere minute when Deekin jumped to his feet and ran toward the wizards. "Hey! Don't put smoky demon faces in the sky, you'll scare the baby!"

* * *

Valen lit one of the lamps in their room, smiling as he heard Angeline's voice out on the balcony. He rubbed a spot on his ribs that still ached occasionally, just another painful momento of a bad period in his life. But now, for the first time, the good ones seemed to be outweighing the bad ones.

He moved to the doorway and watched her for a moment, moving back and forth in her rocking chair as she fed Lyrra and murmured a poem to her in a soft, lilting voice. She looked up at him. "Deekin gave me a book of old poems. I think she likes them, which is good since you know I can't sing."

He chuckled, walking over and kneeling beside her chair, watching them for a long moment. Sometimes he wondered if it was possible for one heart to hold so much love without bursting, especially moments like this. He lifted his head to find Angeline studying him. "Do you hold any anger toward them still, Valen? Sometimes I do."

He didn't need to ask who he meant. "Sometimes, when I just think of the situation as a whole. But for some of them...like her father...I think I can understand." He looked down at Lyrra. "If anyone ever hurt her..."

Angeline's arms tightened softly, cradling the baby closer to her chest. "And then tried to use her...I know. And it kills me to think that she'll suffer the way we have sometimes. Not protected by law and order but persecuted by it when it suits them."

"Don't, Angeline." Valen rose, brushing her hair away from her face, kissing her softly and then pressing a soft kiss to Lyrra's forehead. There were times Angeline couldn't avoid bitterness the way he could. "Between you and I...and your parents...and all the people around us, we can give her the strength she needs."

She looked up at him and smiled softly. Lyrra made a fussy noise and Angeline lifted her to him. He cradled the baby in his arms, rocking her gently until she settled again. Angeline leaned back in her chair, her expression clear and glad once again. "We can't teach her to be normal."

Valen snorted. "Not by any stretch of the imagination."

Angeline laughed softly. "But we can let her grow up being whatever she is."

Something he had never gotten when he was growing up. But his daughter could. He shifted Lyrra to one arm and held the other out to his wife. Angeline smiled and slipped into his hold, leaning against him. They stood like that for a long while, listening as Deekin played a soft tune on his lute below in the gardens and the starts started to come out above.

* * *

_Sometimes I just can't help but end on a disgustingly fluffy note, but I rather think they earned it, don't you? Thank you very much for reading and thanks to everyone who commented and reviewed!_


End file.
